


Benedict/Henry

by BeTheDaphneToMySimon



Series: Great Big Book of Smut [4]
Category: Bridgerton (TV)
Genre: Art, Bisexual Benedict, Consensual, Cute, Kinda Fluffy, M/M, No Relationship, confused Benedict, handjob, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeTheDaphneToMySimon/pseuds/BeTheDaphneToMySimon
Summary: Benedict's mind cannot ever be quiet enough for him to draw, Henry shows him a way to calm it...
Relationships: Benedict Bridgerton/Henry Granville
Series: Great Big Book of Smut [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096868
Kudos: 35





	Benedict/Henry

Benedict grumbled a silent curse-word to himself as he once again ripped a piece of paper from his sketchbook, crumpling it up into a small ball and throwing it close to the fireplace. He would make sure it went in and would be engulfed by the flames later. No one should see the atrocity of that sketch, that was why he had started to draw in his book instead of on the bigger piece of paper on the easel in front of him. Why could Benedict not just draw the ideas he had in his head for once? He never seemed to be able to execute what he imagined in his mind, it never came out the same. Benedict cursed his own hands for it. After being invited to mister Granville's house so many times Benedict had surely hoped such simple mistakes as the ones he had made just now on the paper would not happen again. It seemed as though he never got his thoughts under control well enough for him to focus and draw the way he wanted to.

"Mister Bridgerton, you do not seem very pleased." Benedict looked up when he was spoken to, looking at the man who had invited him to this party in the first place: Henry Granville. The man was nice, he had been trying to teach Benedict that it did not matter if things were not perfect. As long as you kept on trying and kept on working on making your art better, everything would turn out to be much better one day. After all, according to mister Granville the artist himself, Benedict did have a true talent for the art of drawing. Even if he did not think so himself. "Has the party not been to your liking tonight? I did not see you mingling much."

Past tense? Benedict frowned a little, looking around to see that most of the people that had previously been there had vanished already. Huh, perhaps it was later than he had thought it was. Benedict glanced behind him, out of the window through a gap in the curtains. It was dark, completely pitch black outside. Crap. Benedict had not noticed that it was getting so late. "I apologise, I did not notice it had gotten this late. I should leave, my mother might worry where I am." He breathed out, starting to pack his art supplies. The model he had been using for his sketches looked relieved, possibly because it had been hours since he had first gotten up on the small cage. "Thank you for your invitation once again, mister Granville-"

"How many time must I tell you? It is Henry." The man said, walking closer to Benedict to peer at the easel which had the completely blank papers on it. Benedict had ripped off all the ones he had drawn anything on simply because they were abominable, no one should lay their eyes on the atrocities. "Have you not drawn anything today? I thought I noticed you sketching." Ben bit his lip, feeling shame fill him. It felt as though he was failing the man standing next to him. Henry had been so kind and generous to invite Benedict to a party where he could live out his dream of being an artist without being worried that someone might catch him, but yet he could never show anyone what he made simply because he never went through with anything that he made. He always despised what he drew. But the fact that he could not show anything to the artist made Benedict's gut clench in a way that he did not enjoy very much.

"Mister-" Benedict stopped when Henry gave him a look, making him smile a bit. He knew what that look meant. Henry was the nicest man Benedict had met in a while. "Henry, I apologize once again for using the wrong name... I did work on some sketches but they were not what I would like for anyone to see." Henry smiled softly, sitting down next to Benedict after pulling out a chair. Oh Lord, this was not going to be another one of those talks was it? One where Henry would try and convince Benedict that he was not that bad. As well-meant as it was, he did not want to hear it for it always seemed to be forced to him. "I understand that I need practice but I can never seem to focus. There are always a million thoughts racing through my head. It is almost as if there are twenty of the best racehorses running around in my head, thundering their hooves on my skull. I cannot focus, that makes it impossible to draw anything."

Henry squinted a little at Benedict, nodding his head slowly. He seemed to be thinking, always such a thoughtful man, so Benedict continued to pack his sketchbook and the rest of his art supplies- right until Henry grabbed hold of his wrist that is. Ben looked up at him again, Henry's face close to his own. "Please Benedict, allow me another hour or so of your time. It is already late, an hour more will not matter much will it?" Benedict bit his lip. That was true. He was sure his mother was not too worried anyway since he was an adult and a man so he could stay out as long as he wanted to, she would only start to worry if she would not hear of her son for over twenty-four hours. So, Benedict nodded his head, allowing Henry to pull him up from the chair he had been sitting up. Mister Granville took Ben out of the room, saying goodbye to the few people that were left in the house while he walked Benedict through the hallways. After a few moments they arrived at a separate room which Henry let Benedict into, walking in as well and closing the door behind him. Benedict looked around, expecting to see something special, perhaps somehow another artist or a way for Benedict to finally start drawing properly, but it was nothing more than a normal bedroom. Benedict frowned, feeling confusion fill him. Why would he want to see a bedroom? What was the meaning of this? There was not even any art in this place.

  
"Henry, while I do like any place that has a bed, I must ask why you took me here." Benedict turned to look at his... Friend? Perhaps he could consider mister Granville his friend. He was incredibly nice after all and Benedict did not have many friends in his life. He missed those. While he went to many social events, most of those revolved around spending time with either family or with possible debutantes. Benedict was not ready to mingle with the young women yet, thus most of his time was spent on the sidelines, standing and watching. Or sitting and watching, given there was a chair for him to sit on. Hopefully there were nice snacks too, those were the best parties.

Mister Granville smiled softly, looking at Benedict. "You Benedict, you have a wonderful mind. The curse of such a creative mind though is that you will never be able to stop thinking. Your mind will never be at rest." Henry walked closer to benedict, loosening his waistcoat and folding it carefully over a chair that stood near the bed. "Do you trust me?" Ben blinked and then nodded. Of course he trusted Henry. He truly hoped that Henry was his friend and thus he trusted him. Henry smiled, for some reason starting to unbutton his white shirt. "I know many ways to soothe your mind Benedict. If you will let me, I can make you feel good. Your mind will not bother you again." 

Benedict's confused look faded quickly as soon as he realized what exactly was going on. "Oh." He breathed out, watching Henry getting undressed in front of him. Benedict was smart enough to understand what this meant. He let out a shaky breath, mind racing once again. Was this what he wanted? He had noticed his interest in 'different' things before but had not once acted upon those desires since he did not think there was anyone out there like him. Or at least that was what he had always thought, up until that one night when he saw Henry with Lord Wetherby completely in the nude. Perhaps Benedict had pretended by then that he had not seen a thing but of course he had, he had seen a lot more than he wanted to. "Are you...?" It was not so much of a question but Benedict could not find the words. Luckily for him Henry was smart enough to know what Benedict meant even without those words. 

Henry nodded, smiling once again. "Yes, I am attracted to men. While that is not so very... Appreciated in this world, I cannot help it. And I have felt that you are attracted to men as well with the way you looked at me and Lord Wetherby. Or am I mistaken?" Henry walked even closer to Benedict, looking up at him. Benedict was slightly taller, he had not noticed that before. Maybe you would only notice that if you were very close to another person. Being this close to Henry, well, it was something that brought this strange feeling to his stomach. Nothing bad though, just things he had never felt before. "I assure you that it feels wonderful to lay with men, it does very much clear the mind. Which is what you want is it not? For your art?" Benedict nodded, breathless as Henry moved to carefully undo the Bridgerton's shirt. Oh, his brother Anthony would murder him if he found out about what Benedict was doing with a man. Lucky for Benedict Anthony would never find out. "Good. Now let me lead you Benedict. Let me be in charge. Let me make you feel good."

"Okay. I will." Benedict breathed out, gaze softening. Henry moved to undress Benedict more, slowly unbuttoning the white shirt Ben had been wearing, pulling it off and dropping it to the floor. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Benedict's cheek before he gently stroked his hand down the bare skin. Henry stared at him, making Benedict suddenly feel nervous. The touch of the artist on his skin did not calm him down much either. "What? What is it? Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, no worries," Henry softly said, smiling up at Benedict, eyes sparkling with kindness. "You clearly have never gotten enough credit for the way you look. Your physique Benedict, you are so incredibly beautiful. You remind me of a Greek statue." Henry put his palm over Benedict's chest, right over his heart, thumb rubbing over the pale skin. "It would be a great honor if I could draw you one day."

Benedict grinned, the lopsided cute grin that he was known for. "Of course you may, if you wish so." He was not sure why Henry would want to draw him, but if he wanted it then he could get it. Benedict just did not understand why one would want to. "So how does this work then? I know how to do this with a lady but... With a man? It cannot be the same, that is all I know." Henry chuckled, seemingly amused, gently stroking down Benedict's chest until he could rest his hands on the man's hips.

"Just let me, alright?" Henry breathed out before moving to take Benedict's pants off. The second oldest Bridgerton brother was very curious about how all of this worked. A man laying with another man? Not exactly something that was common, or at least not that Benedict knew of. He wondered how it was going to work. With a woman a man put his erect penis inside of the lady's entrance, but how did that work with a man? Did he put- "Benedict dear, you are thinking too much again. Do not let yourself get lost in your mind. Just lay down on the bed and relax, I promise this will feel amazing. You have my word." Benedict nodded, now naked which he had not even noticed before (perhaps he did really think too much). He moved to the bed, laying down on his back, getting comfortable. "There. Now try to relax."

Benedict nodded once again, trying very much to calm down. Perhaps he tried a little too hard because it was not working at all, the harder one tried the more impossible something became was it not? He watched as Henry got himself naked, standing proudly in front of the bed. He was a gorgeous man, Benedict had already noticed that before- not that he had ever thought about Henry in that way before. Or perhaps he had. Henry was older than Benedict but that meant his body was more mature as well. Grown. Benedict felt this strange stirring in the pit of his stomach, a warmth he had not felt before in his life. "You- I should be the one drawing you." Benedict breathed out, making the artist smile and get onto the bed with the Bridgerton, immediately straddling his hips and sitting down, hands on Benedict's chest. He leaned in, pressing their lips together softly. It was much different than kissing a woman. Henry's lips were chapped and his breath tasted like cigarettes and brandy. The kiss was more rough, too. Benedict also noticed it was more exciting, perhaps because it was illegal. "Henry..."

"Shh, did I not tell you to relax? You need to calm your mind." Henry spoke, making Benedict nod, his cheeks pink. Lord help him. Benedict did not know how to relax, he did not understand how to. His mind was constantly at work, running with ideas and thoughts, and he could not in any way calm it down. Henry promised this was going to be wonderful did he not? So yes, he should calm down and allow himself to like this. Henry moved his hands down Benedict's sides, making him shiver, whole leaning in to kiss him again and again. "Trust me, you will feel wonderful if you let me help you." Benedict nodded, swallowing a bit before he allowed Henry to reach down to stroke his penis. Henry took his own penis in his hand as well, stroking them both at the same time. Benedict groaned a little, reaching up to grab onto the artist's shoulders, pulling him down once more to kiss him. It indeed felt wonderful.

Benedict's mind slowly calmed, lost in the feeling of pleasure. He moaned softly into Henry's mouth, hips bucking upward as much as they could. It felt so good. Of course Benedict had pleasured himself before and ladies had touched his penis, but compared to that this was much better. The hand of the artist was rough, big enough to wrap around both of their penises. Ben had never felt this pleasure and he could not focus on anything other than it. Pleasure filled his entire mind and for the first time in his life- or at least what he could remember of it- Benedict felt calm. his mind was no longer racing with thoughts. There was no anger, no frustration, nothing like that in his mind. There was only space for pleasure, a feeling of warmth and happiness. Henry truly did what he promised, did he not? "A- Ah, Henry, that-"

"Feels good?" Henry guessed, wanting to fill in for Benedict who seemed to be too overwhelmed to talk. Ben moaned, nodding his head quickly, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Indeed, it felt good. Better than anything he had ever felt. "I told you so." Henry smirked a bit, kissing Benedict again, thumb rubbing over the leaking tip of Benedict's penis. He kept stroking them, going faster and faster while he squeezed them together in his hand. He wanted to keep on feeling this, Benedict felt so wonderful, just as Henry had promised he would. His penis leaked onto Henry's fingers, another moan escaping his lips. "You can let go Ben, just let go." Benedict moaned as he did so, back arching as he released his seed all over Henry's hand. The orgasm ran through him like a wave crashing against rocks and Ben shivered, moaning out Henry's name. Henry came as well, seed mixing with Benedict's.

"Fuck." Benedict breathed out, slumping back onto the bed as he panted softly. His body was still filled with pleasure, barely any thoughts in his head. It was a warm, welcomed, beautiful silence. He smiled lazily at Henry, eyes half lidded with sleep. "That felt... Amazing." Henry chuckled, wiping his hand on the sheets before leaning down to kiss Benedict's forehead. "Would you mind if I stayed here?"

Henry shook his head. "I would hate it if you would leave... Relax, will you? Get some sleep. Tomorrow we will try to draw again. You and I both." He moved to lay down next to Benedict, something he had not expected since he thought that Henry would like to leave. Perhaps they were now more than friends? "Get sleep, rest." Benedict nodded, already almost asleep. His mind was wonderfully empty and he barely felt Henry wrapping himself around him before he fully fell asleep. Yes, he would gladly accept another invitation to one of Henry's parties. Gladly indeed...


End file.
